“From the bottom we built this, no hand-outs nigga we had to go for self
Killin’ every record we touch, all this shit have to hurt
Goon Music, elite goons runnin’ the streets
Goons comin’ from everywhere, suckers cannot compete
It’s a takeover, mind of a great soldier
8th holder that spit, rip your cavity and break shoulders
Was known for sellin’ work on the park bench to earn my keep
Mixin’ wild coke with flour, to some, work for cheap
Feelin’ like the best in the business, you other rappers weak
Snowgoons Infantry nigga, who make the hotter beats?
Black Snow, you cowards get clapped slow
Facts though, ain’t another movement like us lettin’ their GATS blow
Verbally, you rap commercially, and we don’t feel that
Personally, ___ it hurts for free if not for real rap
Natural Born Spitters are back, guns loaded and packed
Shots explode in your back, verbal attack nigga.”
V. Knuckles
“I step foot in the Black Snow, spit a 16
That’ll make the ground crack slow
Shit we spit is dismissin’ all your whack flow
It’s written with precision, niggas thought I let the MAC go
It’s the vets, better ask around
First black man in the fam with the cap and gown
I did it for my mom, but I’m stackin’ now
Middle finger to the government, they a pack o’ clowns
We’ve been in the streets tryin’ to traffic pounds
Now we on beats by Snowgoons with a platinum sound
Had the best clients, they just kept buyin’
‘round the clock, makin’ plays like I’m Dez Bryant
Who wanna test violence, I’ll press iron
Leave your chest fryin’, the tube spit
Now your set’s dyin’, all our lives had to grind on some Goon shit
My wolves hungry, and tonight the full moon’s lit.”
Planet Asia
“Yo, never tempt a stomach that’s growlin’
Four more mouth formin’, wolfgang howlin’
Too late to throw the towel in, shots from the rusty hammer
Texas .38, my gun got a country grammar
Nanna showed me my first gun, it had a country grammar
So all that stupid shit you on is just a bunch o’ Fanta
A bunch o’ fake jewelry with a bunch of cameras
You and your nerd squad can be the next victim on World Star
Ridiculously rap back and pistol whip
Thought you was with the shit, I see you just a bird pa
I keep the heat near to heat up your faggot ass streetwear
Your funny lookin’ clothes and feetwear
Homie I’ve been the truth, vance my nigga
Bitch dance, but I don’t need a bitch trippin’
I just need the loot, what’s life without a taste of wealth
It’s a stick up, now everybody break yourself.”
